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MAIN 


UC-NRLF 


GIFT  or 
AUTHOR 


N6^ 


San  Francisco 


Redi-vivus! 


-<, 


mt&f^^fy4* 


m 


AN  OPEN  LETTER  TO  ALL  SAN  FRANCISCANS 
AND  ALL  CALIFORNIANS. 

FOR    SALE    BY    ALL    BOOK    SELLERS 

PRICE  25  CENTS 


^fvEGS- Crt*   VlARRINGTON-MClNNIS  Co. 

Oakland,  Cal. 


SAN    FRANCISCO       &3 

Mi-. 
REDI-VIVUS! 

MA' 


An  Open   Letter  to  all  San  Franciscans 
and  all  Californians 


■pspf:    ....  ........ 

e        Bf 


San  Francisco   is  the   Heart  of  the  State  of  California, 
and  when  the  heart  is  affected  the  whole 
bod/  must  suffer  in  sympathy." 


i^r*     *2r*    t^* 


J2-?^_f\t 


ELLA   STERLING    CUMMINS 

Author  of  "  Story  of  the  Files  of  California, 

"  Little  Mountain  Princess,"  etc. 


f  -^t/  CLu^t^uf  y» 


San  Francisco  Redi-vivus! 


"Come,  Let  Us  Consider." 

An  Open  letter  to  all  San  Franciscans  and  Calif ornians  regarding 
onr  beloved  city. 

Junk  17th,  1907. 
D^ar  Sir  and  Madam  : 

You  doubtless  remember  that  after  Noah  built  the  ark  he  did 
not  immediately  enter  it  with  his  family  but  waited  patiently  for 
the  sign  from  the  Lord  which  should  tell  him  the  proper  time 
and  moment  had  arrived  when  he  should  seek  refuge  there  from 
the  rising  waters  which  were  to  engulf  the  world.  In  some 
curious  way  when  reading  that  story  in  my  childhood,  I  took 
on  the  idea  that  this  was  like  a  f airy .  tal^  and  meantf1  something 
symbolical  or  applicable  to  every  family  and  every  vfather  Noah 
who  built  a  house  for  his  little  tribe  to  occupy.  >  ; And.  as  time 
has  gone  on,  more  and  more  does  th<r  pa^atle  please' my  sense 
of  the  picturesque  in  the  practical. 

Is  it  not  a  fact  that  every  true  home  is  an  ark  of  refuge 
to  the  family?  Does  not  the  welfare  of  the  State,  nay  of  the 
nation,  the  race  itself  depend  upon  the  well-being  of  the  Home? 

Many  tremendous  things  have  happened  in  our  beloved  city 
of  San  Francisco  during  the  last  twelve-month.  In  spite  of 
everything,  her  promise  is  greater  than  ever  before.  Who  that 
beholds  the  wonderful  sight  of  those  splendid  buildings  arising 
with  such  rapidity  as  if  an  Aladdin  were  directing  some  Genie- 
of-the-lamp  to  do  his  bidding,  can  fail  to  be  bewildered?  Pigmy 
man  takes  on  the  proportions  of  a  giant  when  we  see  such  work 
going  on  as  this  before  our  very  eyes.  Such  confidence  as  this 
is  more  than  inspiring,  it  is  positively  infectious.  Are  these 
builders  of  great  hostelries  to  do  it  all  and  are  we  who  have  no 
skill  in  iron,  construction  or  concrete,  who  are  not  architects  nor 
carpenters  nor  iron-workers,  to  sit  by  idly,  giving  no  helping 
hand  ? 

3 


Have  we  no  share  in  all  this  tremendous  upbuilding  of  the 
fair  city  of  our  love?  Ah,  yes  we  have,  the  very  smallest  and 
weakest  of  us,  the  very  children  themselves  have  part  and  parcel 
in  all  this  superb  work  which  is  lying  near  to  our  heart  and  to 
our  hand.  What  is  the  great  city  after  all  but  an  aggregation  of 
homes  and  we  are  the  ones  who  can  see  to  it  that  these  dear 
homes  are  protected  and  succored  and  built  up  from  the  inside 
out  and  the  outside  in.  No  city  can  live  by  hotels  alone,  no 
matter  how  splendid  they  may  be.  It  is  Captain  Noah  and  Mrs. 
Noah  with  their  family  safe  in  the  refuge  of  the  Ark — the  home 
— that  makes  us  anything  at  all,  among  the  cities  or  the  nations 
or  the  races.  We  have  many  traveling  Bedouins  going  hither 
and  yon,  and  they  must  find  splendid  entertainment  wherever 
they  may  go,  but  the  heart  of  the  nation  is  to  be  found  in  the 
home. 

What  are  we  doing  at  the  present  time  for  the  fostering  and 
protecting  of  this  Sacred  Heart  of  the  City  which  we  so  dearly 
love?  Each  individual  is  working  and  striving  for  its  own  par- 
ticular little  sacred  spot  with  anxious  care  and  worried  almost 
beyond  belief.  Business,*. is:  crippled,  needless  excitements  are 
thrust  upon  them,  featful  noises  fill  the  streets,  reckless  drivers 
threaten,  lite  at  every  :tunv,  The  day  was  in  our  city  when  a 
lady  cbuid  walk  out  at  night  'without  a  thought  and  go  on  her 
way  in  all  innocence  and  confidence.  San  Francisco  was  the 
safest  city  in  the  world  for  any  one  who  wished  to  walk  instead 
of  ride  no  matter  how  dark  the  hour. 

We  represent  a  mighty  force — we  of  the  homes  if  only  we 
would  work  together  collectively.  Individually  we  stand  as  only 
one.  Why  should  we  not  unite  for  our  common  good  and  do 
some  upbuilding  for  our  beloved  city  as  well  as  are  doing  the 
iron-workers  and  the  architects  and  the  construction  men  for  the 
benefit  of  the  mighty  piles  for  business  purposes? 

The  time  has  arrived  for  us  to  go  into  the  Ark  and  escape 
the  miseries  of  the  Ail-Outside.  We  must  have  a  place  that 
even  the  great  waves  of  business,  of  politics,  of  tumult  and  per- 
sonal selfishness  will  respect  and  regard. 

The  Ark  floated  safely  you  remember  and  the  rainbow  of 
Peace  shone  above  it.  That  is  what  the  home  should  be  to:day 
and  I  will  show  that  it  is  our  duty  to  make  it  so,  if  only  out  of 
self-defence,  out  of  self-protection  for  our  own  preservation. 


We  cannot  afford  to  ignore  the  signs  of  the  times.  In  years 
to  come  let  those  who  follow  after,  sit  in  judgment  upon  us  and 
call  us  selfish  and  over-reaching  if  they  will  for  our  neglect 
of  the  present,  which  we  are  about  to  bequeathe  to  them  when 
we  ourselves  have  turned  to  ashes.  Selfishness  and  graspingness 
may  be  excuses  for  those  who  view  life  from  a  material  stand- 
point. But  there  is  worse  that  may  be  laid  to  our  doors.  They 
who  come  after  may  call  us  wickedly  stupid.  To-day  we  lay 
up  enmity  against  those  New  England  sea-captains  who  brought 
over  the  poor  captives  from  Africa  to  revenge  themselves  upon 
us  in  a  thousand  ways  for  a  thousand  years.  Can  we  afford  to 
ignore  that  warning?     Most  certainly  not. 

It  is  a  matter  of  individual  interest  to  each  man  and  woman 
and  child  what  kind  of  people  are  coming  into  our  midst  to 
become  our  neighbors. 

The  word  has  been  flashed  across  the  wires  that  a  committee 
of  gentlemen  from  Washington,  D.  C,  will  soon  be  in  our  midst 
to  effect  a  compromise  between  the  car-strikers  and  the  strike- 
breakers, and  between  other  antagonistic  forces  at  the  present 
time  destroying  the  peace  and  comfort  of  our  beloved  city. 

"This  is  a  consummation  most  devoutly  to  be  wished,"  never- 
theless would  it  not  be  a  most  gratifying  thing  to  all  concerned 
if  some  way  out  of  the  difficulties  now  afflicting  us,  could  be 
discovered  and  put  into  effect  before  the  arrival  of  these 
strangers?  Would  it  not  speak  well  for  all  of  us  if  the  "golden 
mean"  could  be  agreed  upon  between  the  conflicting  parties  and 
peace  be  restored  as  a  surprise  to  them  when  they  step  off  the 
ferry-boat  and  put  foot  to  the  soil  of  our  blessed  city? 

Now  I  know  well  enough  that  neither  of  the  gentlemen,  rep- 
resentative of  the  railroads  nor  of  the  carmen's  union,  is  at  all 
happy  over  the  present  state  of  affairs.  I  know  that  if  a  way  could 
be  pointed  out  by  which  they  could  retreat  from  their  present  posi- 
tions obtaining  "peace  with  honor,"  that  they  would  hail  it  with 
unspeakable  joy,  as  much  so,  if  not  more,  than  would  the  entire 
city  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  souls.  Therefore  it  is  with 
confidence  that  I  bring  this  appeal  to  you  to  rise  as  one  and 
demand  that  this  compromise  be  accepted — this  compromise 
founded  upon  absolute  justice  to  the  homes  which  are  the  founda- 
tion of  all  our  prosperity  and  well-being. 

"What  is  it?"  you  ask.     Let  us  look  into  this  thing  a  little, 


probing  for  the  reason  why  the  carmen  have  plunged  us  into 
this  present  difficulty. 

The  answer  'is  only  too  self-evident.  It  is  owing  to  the  ex- 
orbitant demands  of  the  landlords  and  property-owners  for  almost 
prohibitive  rent  for  the  houses.  In  order  to  survive  at  all,  most 
of  the  families  have  had  to  turn  their  arks  of  refuge  into  lodging- 
houses.  This  will  do  for  single  couples,  but  not  for  the  man 
and  wife  with  a  little  brood  of  children  to  rear.  He  must  have 
light,  space,  air  and  decency  for  their  protection.  Therefore,  he 
must  earn  more  per  day  in  order  to  pay  more  for  rent. 

The  idea  of  this  increase,  however,  does  not  meet  with  the 
approval  of  the  railroads.  The  managers  must  see  to  it  that 
a  good  interest  comes  in  from  the  investment  of  the  capital 
entrusted  to  them  and  they  want  cheap  men,  not  dear  ones,  in 
their  employ.  What  is  the  landlord's  rent-bill  to  them?  If  the 
wages  of  the  carmen  won't  meet  the  higher  rent  demanded  of 
them,  it  is  not  their  affair,  they  say.  "Why  the  devil  do  these 
men  get  married  and  have  families  if  they  can't  support  them?" 
.  On  the  other  hand  the  carmen  who  are  arrayed  against  the 
railroads  demand  unreasoningly,  that  every  man  of  them,  single 
or  married,  with  broods  of  young  or  not,-  shall  each  and  all 
receive  the  additional  compensation,  thus  running  up  the  wages 
which  may  be  required  to  suit  this  present  difficult  time  to  a 
price  which  will  be  more  than  adequate  to  the  time  soon  coming 
when  more  houses  will  be  built  and  the  rents  will  have  to  come 
down. 

The  manager  of  the  railroads  perceives  that  once  this  standard 
is  set,  it  will  act  as  a  club  held  over  their  own  heads  for  the 
future,  for  once  established  it  will  be  almost  impossible  to  put  it 
back  again.  Therefore  on  the  one  side  as  the  representative  of 
the  money-interest  he  hardens  his  heart,  and  on  the  other  as  the 
exponent  of  the  carmen's  union,  the  other  man  hardens  his  heart. 
And  there  we  are,  ground  between  the  upper  and  lower  mill- 
stones ! 

The  whole  city  is  thus  thrown  into  a  state  of  conflict  which 
threatens  to  disrupt  us  if  it  continues  much  longer,  and  so  dis- 
tinguished strangers  are  now  coming  to  bid  us  be  good  children 
and  not  upset  the  whole  nation  by  our  antics.  That  is  how  it 
appears  to  the  outside  world. 

In  a  time  of  common  calamity  it  behooves  all  classes  to  unite 


for  the  common  weal.  Why  should  we  permit  this  state  of 
affairs  to  go  on?  What  lesson  for  the  future  can  we  learn  from 
the  struggle  through  which  we  are  now  passing  so  that  such 
destroying  conflicts  may  not  soon  again  rise  to  disturb  our  peace 
and  well-being?  What  slogan  shall  we  raise?  What  banner 
shall  we  fling  on  high  in  earnest  of  our  desires  for  the  continuous 
welfare  of  our  suffering,  yet  even  still  beautiful  city  of  San 
Francisco — the  Pride  of  the  Pacific. 

Can  this  be  done,  you  ask?  Is  there  any  such  touchstone  to 
prove  the  difference  between  the  false  and  the  true?  between 
gold  and  alloy?  Is  there  any  slogan  which  will  fit  all  things, 
civic  and  domestic?  any  banner  that  will  do  to  fight  under  for 
both  factions — the  corporations  and  the  unions?  for  aggregated 
wealth  and  the  individual  man? 

There  is,  there  is — I  protest  there  is ! 

You  say  you  cannot  believe  it,  that  their  interests  are  op- 
posed, that  the  one  must  resist  the  aggressions  of  the  other  or 
chaos  and  misrule  must  result.  I  say  "No  !"  most  emphatically. 
I  say  most  earnestly  and  devoutly,  "We  all  are  one."  What 
is  truly  good  for  the  individual  man  is  good  for  the  corporation, 
and  what  is  truly  good  for  the  corporation,  is  good  for  the 
individual  man.  I  can  prove  this  by  facts  gleaned  from  ex- 
perience. 

From  my  childhood  I  have  grown  up  in  the  atmosphere  of 
corporate  interests  and  I  have  seen  the  two  go  together  hand 
in  hand.  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  time  the  idea  of  a  rail- 
road-interest was  brought  into  the  conception  of  my  childish 
mind.  I  waked  from  my  sleep  to  see  my  father  sitting  up  all 
night  writing  the  speech  that  he  was  to  deliver  the  following 
day  in  the  Nevada  legislature,  giving  the  right  of  way  to  the 
Central  Pacific  railroad  to  pass  through  that  State.  I  would 
drowsily  watch  him  as  he  wrote  at  a  white  heat  dropping  down 
upon  the  floor  beside  him  sheet  after  sheet,  trying  thus  to  keep 
pace  with  the  rapidity  of  the  thoughts  thus  surging  through 
him,  and  when  he  won  the  next  day,  I  rejoiced,  child  as  I  was. 
No  one  knows  better  than  I  the  value  to  a  people  of  quick 
transit.     But  something  else  I  also  learned  from  him. 

That  night  made  a  railroad  man  of  my  father.  But  in  after 
years  when  he  sold  lots  to  build  the  towns  along  that  winding 
road  that  opened  the  great  highway  to  the  peoples  of  the  East, 


he  always  used  his  power  for  the  benefit  of  both  railroad  and 
people.  He  represented  both,  he  was  the  father  of  seven  children  ! 
He  saw  to  it  that  certain  lots  were  set  /apart  for  schools,  for 
churches,  that  every  point  that  was  good  for  the  well-being 
of  the  family  should  have  the  first  consideration.  This  method 
of  his  brought  the  very  best  kind  of  citizens  to  these  towns,  those 
who  came  to  stay,  to  build  up  the  little  hamlets  into  a  common- 
wealth. Thousands  of  gamblers,  adventurers,  speculators,  min- 
ers and  wanderers  would  come  and  go,  spending  their  nights 
drinking  and  gambling  in  the  saloons,  but  the  men  of  family 
built  their  little  homes,  planted  little  gardens,  and  placed  their 
children  in  the  public  schools,  and  the  mothers  had  them  attend- 
ing church  and  Sunday  school.  It  would  be  a  foolish  question 
to  ask,  "Which  of  these  was  a  better  class  to  attract  to  the 
town?" 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  whenever  he  had  any  power,  the  rail- 
road made  friends  and  built  up  homes  and  was  benefitted  by  the 
incoming  of  this  class  of  citizens,  and  this  class  of  citizens  was 
benefitted  by  the  railroad.  This  was  a  masterly  policy.  Had 
it  been  carried  out  consistently  all  along  the  line  far  better  off 
should  we  all  be  to-day  as  a  result,  both  railroads  and  individuals. 
But  the  cold-hearted,  grasping,  avaricious  Eastern  policy  crept 
into  our  midst  slowly  and  insidiously,  casting  the  frost  of  sus- 
picion upon  everything  and  in  its  deadly  enmity  subsidizing 
men  and  destroying  confidence.  Instead  of  considering  the  good 
of  the  greatest  number,  instead  of  encouraging  the  growth  of 
civic  welfare,  for  its  own  ultimate  good,  the  policy  of  these 
incoming  managers  grew  to  be  one  that  grasped  for  everything 
in  reach  at  any  cost. 

It  is  such  an  old  story  that  it  could  be  said  of  us,  as  the 
old  fishwoman  did  of  the  eels.  "Oh,  it  don't  hurt  'em  any  more," 
she  said,  "Why  they're  used  to  being  skinned." 

And  this  is  where  we  are  wickedly  stupid.  We  ought  not 
to  get  used  to  it.  We  should  protest  against  this  cold-hearted, 
grasping,  avaricious  Eastern  policy  being  further  introduced 
for  the  ruining  of  the  homes  and  families  of  the  Pacific  Coast 
and  our  adorable  City  of  the  Golden  Gate. 

Our  fathers  and  mothers  migrated  from  that  cold  and  over- 
civilized  East  to  reach  this  free  Western  land  of  the  sunset. 
Overcrowding  produces  over-civilization  and  its  attendant  evils, 

8 


and  this  causes  the  aggregation  of  wealth  which  divides  the 
people  into  classes,  thus — the  rich,  the  parasites  who  live  upon 
them,  the  respectable  middle-class  which  is  the  backbone  of  the 
nation,  and. finally,  the  derelicts,  those  wrecks  of  humanity  who 
have  gone  to  ruin  in  the  struggle  of  survive. 

One  has  only  to  live  in  London  for  four  years  to  see  these 
distinctions  carried  out  in  all  their  awfulness,  where  two  hundred 
thousand  men,  women  and  children  walk  the  streets  every  night 
for  lack  of  shelter,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  more  are  herded 
in  together  under  conditions  which  are  unspeakable.  Over- 
civilization  is  a  worse  condition  than  savagery,  for  at  least  one 
has  air  to  breathe  and  space  to  turn  around  in  of  which  the 
former  is  deprived.  No  slave  black  or  white  is  more  to  be 
pitied  than  these  freeborn  English  who  have  sunk  into  the  hope- 
less ranks  of  the  derelicts  of  civilization. 

Our  grandparents  belonging  to  the  respectable  middle-class 
of  many  nations,  with  brains  and  intelligence  and  a  mighty 
courage,  left  Europe  behind  them  to  escape  these  conditions 
and  to  work  out  their  destiny  in  the  new  world.  Our  fathers 
and  mothers,  their  descendants,  in  the  same  spirit  resolved  to 
leave  their  Eastern  homes  for  farther  West,  and  heroically  they 
crossed  the  plains  in  ox-teams,  or  came  by  ship  to  reach  this 
land  of  promise.  Out  of  that  fortitude  and  splendid  endurance 
have  we  the  natives  of  this  land  come  forth.  We  are  white 
people  with  the  heritage  of  Magna  Charta  and  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  and  Patrick  Henry's  "Give  me  Liberty  or 
give  me  Death,"  running  like  an  alchemy  in  our  veins. 

We  have  not  made  of  this  land  a  Fiji  Island  for  some  brutal 
captain  to  come  along  and  annex  to  his  kingdom  on  the  other 
side  of  the  world.  Nor  even  yet  some  pitiful  South  American 
republic  for  some  enterprising  contractor  to  enter,  build  his 
railroad  and  then  demand  the  whole  country  in  payment  for  this 
generosity  with  all  the  people  thrown  in  and  their  immortal  souls 
as  well. 

Railroads  come  too  high  that  are  to  be  paid  for  in  immortal 
souls — in  the  honor  of  its  citizens.  In  our  innocence  and  ignor- 
ance and  in  our  gratitude  for  transportation  we  have  failed  to 
grasp  the  real  meaning  of  things — we  have  given  away  priceless 
boons  of  our  freedom  for  a  mess  of  pottage.  We  have  allowed 
brutal  captains  of  passing  ships  to  obtain  possession  of  precious 

9 


franchises  with  the  right  to  transfer  them  to  whomsoever  they 
pleased.  But  that  was  in  the  days  of  our  stupidity  and  ignor- 
ance. 

We  are  sons  and  daughters  of  the  white  race — the  Aryans 
who  came  out  of  some  mysterious  Mid-Gard  to  people  Europe 
and  America  and  we  doubtless  have  the  intelligence  to  continue, 
and  to  go  on  our  triumphant  way.     I  pray  that  it  may  be  so. 

The  fateful  moment  has  arrived,  however.  We  shall  have  to 
face  the  situation  bravely,  and  contrive  deliberately  how  to  meet 
it.  Every  man,  woman  and  child  will  have  to  be  enlisted  as 
one  in  heart  and  thought  to  ward  off  the  unseen  foes  now  at 
work.  Is  our  country  worth  it,  is  our  city  worth  it?  How  can 
we  ask  the  question !  This  is  no  time  for  indifference,  for 
triviality.  We  all  are  concerned  in  this  matter.  There  is  no 
escape  from  responsibility.  In  civic  welfare  each  one  is  his 
brother's  keeper.  That  fact  was  abundantly  proved  the  day  the 
Almighty  walked  the  streets  of  San  Francisco  on  April  18th, 
1906,  and  we  have  been  trying  to  clear  up  ever  since,  in  men 
as  well  as  bricks. 

What  we  want  here  now  is  honest  work  and  how  are  we 
going  to  get  it? 

In  1849  there  went  forth  a  clarion  call  to  all  the  world 
crying  "Gold  is  found  in  California!"  During  1906-7  another 
voice  has  been  heard  around  the  planet,  "Work  is  to  be  had  in 
San  Francisco!"  And  the  latter  cry  has  been  as  potent  as  the 
former  in  starting  men  from  many  nations  in  this  direction. 
What  kind  of  men  are  these  arriving  every  day  to  swell  our 
population?  That  is  what  should  concern  us.  If  they  come 
unattached  merely  as  adventurers  to  prey  upon  us,  and  to  do 
no  upbuilding  they  ought  to  be  discouraged.  We  should  see 
to  it  that  derelicts  have  no  favors  here.  It  would  be  a  pity  in 
this  mood  of  desperation  between  the  carmen  and  the  railroads 
if  we  should  add  to  our  ranks  of  bad  citizenship  to  be  reckoned 
with  for  many  years  yet  before  us. 

It  would  be  like  the  stupid  policy  prevailing  in  New  York 
City  which  has  brought  swarms  of  Sicilians  and  Corsicans  into 
its  midst,  owing  to  the  greedy  steamship  companies  who  drum- 
med them  up  from  their  native  shores  for  the  sake  of  a  petty 
ten  or  fifteen  dollars  a  head.  These  creatures  who  are  well 
enough  as  brigands  in  their  own  country  have  introduced  their 

10 


methods  of  living  into  the  proud  city  of  the  Atlantic  and  as 
"Black  Hands"  they  extort  money  'from  helpless  parents  by 
stealing  their  children  for  ransom  and  thus  keep  the  families 
in  a  constant  state  of  dread.  Why  should  we  not  take  warning 
and  avoid  bringing  Black  Hands  into  our  midst  to  further  add 
to  our  problems  of  government.  If  a  force  could  be  created 
in  this  community  in  favor  of  protection  of  the  home,  if  certain 
benefits  could  be  conferred  on  the  man  who  is  striving  to  main- 
tain a  home  for  wife  and  family  as  against  the  wanderer  and 
adventurer,  the  good  word  would  soon  travel  across  the  conti- 
nents and  bring  to  us  the  kind  of  population  that  would  make 
for  the  welfare  of  our  city. 

Suppose  for  instance,  a  proposition  should  be  submitted  to 
the  managers  of  any  opposing  factions — the  one  who  controlled 
a  monopoly,  and  the  men  who  were  demanding  a  raise  in  wages 
under  the  threat  of  ceasing  work  or  permitting  others  to  take 
their  places,  such  as  follows — that  the  men  with  families  be 
placed  upon  a  list — the  property  owners  be  requeste'd  to  make 
easier  terms  with  them  for  the  rent,  and  a  small  increase  in 
wage  be  granted  to  them — on  a  graduated  scale  according  to 
the  number  of  children  they  have.  This  would  be  a  compromise 
founded  on  absolute  justice.  Those  who  had  no  families  to 
submit  to  the  terms  for  the  sake  of  the  community  at  large  and 
in  interest  of  the  home  which  one  day  they  too  would  have. 

Why  should  not  there  be  created  a  force  of  public  opinion 
like  this  to  bring  about  a  better  feeling  between  all  classes? 
Sir  Francis  Bacon  says,  "He  who  hath  wife  and  children  hath 
given  hostages  to  fortune."  We  all  should  gain  by  this  arrange- 
ment and  favoring  of  the  family-man  for  they  bear  a  sense  of 
responsibility  which  makes  them  more  interested  in  our  civic 
welfare.  That  this  policy  was  thoroughly  understood  by  the 
old  C.  P.  R.  R.  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  in  Sacramento  when 
their  clerks  got  married  they  gave  them  an  increase  of. "$25  a 
month,-  because  they  considered  their  service  to  be  more  valu- 
able in  consequence  to  themselves. 

Why  should  we  not  learn  from  them  this  wise  policy?  Why 
not  recognize  this  law  of  being  and  make  a  distinction  between 
the  man  in  employment — between  those  who  are  the  support 
of  a  family  and  those  who  are  foot-free  and  transient,  able  to 
go  hither  and  yon   without   caring   for   schools   or   having  any 

11 


regard  for  our  social  system?  As  I  marvel  at  the  wonderful 
buildings  going  up  so  rapidly  at  the  hand  of  iron-workers  and 
carpenters,  so  also  do  I  feel  a  sense  of  awe  at  the  maternal  and 
paternal  love  and  patience  necessary  to  the  upbuilding  of  the 
family.  If  I  should  have  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  have  been 
reared  ignorant  of  the  thought  of  an  eternal  Father  above  all, 
I  could  not  escape  discovering  it  for  myself  when  I  behold  such 
devotion,  such  tenderness  as  are  revealed  to  me  from  these 
parents  who  are  caring  for  their  broods  here  in  this  city.  I 
feel  myself  moved  to  my  innermost  being  and  in  the  presence 
of  something  holy  so  that  I  am  compelled  to  say,  "There  must 
be  a  God,  where  else  could  such  sublimity  of  patience  and 
sacrifice  come  from  to  earth?"  It  is  a  glimpse  from  something 
beyond. 

And  yet  in  our  wicked  stupidity,  we  go  blundering  along, 
unseeing,  unthinking,  forgetting  this  great  power  which  can  set 
all  our  troubles  to  rights  if  only  we  give  it  half  a  chance  to  live 
and  be. 

To  those  who  comprehend  the  real  status  of  affairs,  it  seems 
almost  devilish,  certainly  most  inhuman,  the  ingenuity  with 
which  social  custom  at  the  present  time  apparently  tries  to  de- 
stroy the  family.  Every  kind  of  an  enemy  seeks  to  prey  upon 
the  family-man.  He  is  goaded  and  driven  by  the  landlord,  b'y 
the  employer,  by  edicts  against  gray  hairs,  by  childish  public 
opinion,  yet  he  bears  his  burden  bravely.  Without  this  man 
and  his  wife  we  should  have  no  social  system.  As  soon  as  we 
get  up  into  the  classes  where  there  is  no  work,  the  breed  dies 
out.  For  our  own  preservation  we  must  foster  this  man  and 
his  brood. 

I  know  that  hare-brained  orators  and  writers  think  they  have 
said  something  eloquent  when  they  hurl  the  word  "proletariat"  at 
our  people,  but, we  have  no  such  class  in  this  country.  That 
word  obtains  properly  only  among  the  beggars  of  an  over- 
crowded civilization — the  very  state  of  affairs  that  we  desire  to 
prevent.  The  only  beings  in  our  land  who  can  roam  about 
and  work  not  are  the  tramps  and  they  seem  to  be  unattached. 
The  very  kind  of  mortals  we  ought  to  lessen  the  numbers  of, 
not  add  to  their  ranks. 

In  France,  in  the  final  throes  of  despair  over  the  threatened 
dying  out  of  their  race,  they  are  claiming  the  illegitimates  and 

12 


providing  for  them.  But  it  will  not  avail.  It  is  not  the  indi- 
vidual child  unattached  that  will  be  of  any  ultimate  benefit  to 
France.  It  is  the  family  unit — the  father,  mother  and  child  that 
makes  for  a  substantial  foundation  for  the  social  and  industrial 
success  of  a  nation  and  a  race. 

At  this  present  moment  we  are  hanging  in  the  balance.  Shall 
San  Francisco  be  a  place  of  homes  or  a  corner  of  the  earth 
given  over  to  the  lawless,  the  adventurer,  the  irresponsible?  One 
has  but  to  go  about  as  I  have  done,  and  ask  of  the  passer-by, 
"What  is  the  name  of  this  street?  Is  it  Taylor  or  Jones?"  to 
discover  the  fact  that  the  city  is  full  of  strangers  who  know 
nothing  about  the  old  streets,  and  who  speak  with  an  accent 
not  common  to  ourselves.  Their  manners  too  are  different 
from  those  of  the  old  Californians. 

Some  of  them  are  even  sneering  in  their  replies  which  at 
once  tells  the  story  of  their  newness  to  the  country.  True  Cali- 
fornians are  always  gentle  and  kindly  in  speech  to  women  and 
children.  Every  woman,  every  child  is  to  them  an  object  to  be 
protected. 

"Their  speech  betrayeth  them,"  says  Chaucer. 

How  shall  we  proceed  so  as  to  gather  in  these  newcomers 
and  make  of  them  an  element  similar  to  the  old  material  of 
which  social  San  Francisco  is  composed?  How  shall  we  revive 
the  old  San  Francisco  spirit  so  that  they  cannot  escape  the  infec- 
tion of  its  mighty  influence?  By  organizing  for  the  express 
purpose  of  creating  sentiment  to  that  end. 

The  world  is  ruled  by  sentiment.  Sentiment  can  conquer 
kings  where  force  fails. 

Recall  to  your  mind  the  story  of  the  insignificant  little  green 
leaf  of  Ireland  which  was  for  ages  a  symbol  to  them  of  all  they 
held  dear — but  which  one  sorrowful  day,  the  conqueror  decreed 
they  should  cease  to  wear  on  pain  of  punishment,  and  perhaps 
death.     What  was  it  that  happened  as  a  result? 

Did  these  conquered  people  throw  it  down  and  forget  all 
about  the  meaning  of  this  little  green  leaf?  Did  they  go  on 
to  other  things  more  worthy  of  a  subjugated  people?  Did  they 
build  railroads  and  go  into  commercial  pursuits  with  all  that 
bottled-up  energy  of  theirs  to  make  their  land  a  success 
financially  ? 

No  one  has   ever  gone   from  the   Giant's   Causeway  in  the 

13 


north  to  County  Clare  on  the  southwest  where  the  mighty 
Shannon  flows  into  the  Atlantic,  can  forget  those  endless  miles 
of  untilled  fields  and  unpeopled  stretches  of  land,  which  mark 
Ireland  so  peculiarly.  Where  is  the  smoke  of  her  factories? 
where  are  the  industries  that  should  be  hers?  What  then  is 
the  matter  with  them?  where  are  the  sons  and  daughters  of 
this  island? 

They  have  been  emigrating  instead — going  forth  all  over 
the  world  to  every  land  singing, 

"Oh,- Paddy,  dear,  and  did  you  hear 
The  news  that's  going  'round, 
The  Shamrock  is  forbidden  law 
To  grow  on  Irish  ground?" 

And  other  lands  have  heard  it  and  have  sung  it  too — for  how 
many  years — perhaps  a  hundred  and  then  what  happened? 

The  day  came  at  last  when  the  conquerors  were  being  worsted 
in  a  war  in  South  Africa  and  some  sons  of  the  green  island 
saved  the  day  and  brought  victory  instead  of  defeat.  And  the 
King's  wife  who  was  a  beautiful  princess  of  Denmark  begged 
that  the  decree  against  the  little  green  leaf  be  lifted  and  these 
brave  fighters  be  allowed  once  more  to  wear  their  native  emblem, 
and  it  was  granted.  It  then  came  to  pass  that  upon  that  fol- 
lowing 17th  of  March,  after  a  hundred  years  of  ban  upon  it 
or  thereabouts,  by  the  word  of  the  Danish  princess  and  English 
Queen  that  quantities  of  the  forbidden  plant  were  sent  to  the 
Irish  soldiers  in  Africa  as  their  sweetest  gift  and  reward  and 
they  wore  them  on  their  breasts  with  the  tears  filling  their  eyes 
and  their  hearts  bursting. 

Not  only  that!  All  the  officers  and  soldiers  in  the  army 
wore  them,  and  also  the  Court  and  the  people  at  home  in  the 
Conqueror's  own  land  in  honor  of  the  brave  Irish  who  had 
won  the  battle  for  them. 

I  was  living  in  London  at  the  time  and  I  saw  it  all  with 
my  own  eyes  and  heard  it  with  my  own  ears.  And  last  March 
in  New  York  city  everybody  was  buying  little  leaves  of  green 
and  wearing  them — just  because  it  was  the  fashion.  I  know  of 
a  German  grandmother — a  lady  of  wealth  and  refinement — who 
pinned  them  proudly  upon  the  breasts  of  her  younglings  as  a 
mark  of  distinction  even  while  she  smiled  to  me. 

-      14 


"All  the  world  is  Irish  on  the  Seventeenth  of  March,"  she 
said  excusingly,  "even  we  Germans  have  to  come  in." 

And  all  this  was  done  because  of  sentiment — because  of  loy- 
alty to  a  bit  of  green.  But  did  you  ever  see  the  real  plant 
itself? 

I  had  often  taken  notice  of  oxalis  and  clover  and  kindred 
species  and  had  an  idea  that  the  celebrated  emblem  so  famed 
and  sung  and  extolled  was  much  larger  and  more  beautiful 
than  all  others.     A  surprise  was  awaiting  me. 

An  Irish  lady  of  culture  came  to  me  on  that  great  day  in 
London  for  her'  people  and  presented  me  with  •  a  queer  little 
bunch  of  green  stuff  rolled  up  and  too  tender  to  tie  into  a  nose- 
gay. "I  have  brought  it  to  you,"  she  said  proudly,  "it  came 
to  me  this  morning  from  Ireland." 

"What  is  it,"  I  asked  eagerly,  noting  her  suppressed  emotion 
as  she  spoke. 

She  laughed  as  if  for  the  generations  past  and  gone  who 
had  died  broken-hearted  and  she  had  been  spared  to  see  their 
triumph.  "It's  the  Shamrock  so  long  forbidden  by  law  to  grow 
on  Irish  ground !" 

"Yes,  yes,"  I  said  full  of  enthusiasm,  "but  where  is  it?" 

"There,  in  your  hand,  woman !  Can't  you  see  it  ?"  she  de- 
manded. 

To  tell  the  truth,  it  was  all  strings  and  stems  twisted  into  a 
bunch,  but  after  a  while  I  perceived  the  microscopic  leaves,  so 
small  and  insignificant  as  not  to  be  worth  mentioning. 

"But "  I  stammered,  "this  can't  be  a  good  speciman — 

it  is  so  dwarfed." 

"That's  Irish  Shamrock,"  said  she  admiringly,  "that's  the 
way  it  grows  in  Ireland,  but  once  you  transplant  it  to  any 
other  place  and  it  begins  to  grow  big  right  away.  That's  the 
way  we  know  the  genuine  Shamrock  because  it  is  small  like 
that." 

What  a  true  symbol  indeed,  I  thought  to  myself  as  I  scanned 
it  over,  for  let  a  child  of  Ireland  go  to  any  other  land  and  it 
does  "grow  big  right  away."  It  was  a  revelation !  The  leaf 
was  nothing,  it  was  the  sentiment  that  was  in  the  hearts  of 
the  people  who  held  it  dear  to  them  with  thousands  of  mem- 
ories back  of  it,  that  had  produced  this  marvel.  And  to-day, 
I  can  see  that  the  story  of  the   Shamrock  is  still  going  on — 

15 


revivals  of  ancient  Irish  things — language,  dancing,  games,  and 
legends — are  in  progress — all  a  part  of  that  same  sentiment. 

We  here  in  our  beloved  city  of  our  beloved  land  have  suf- 
fered, yet  our  hearts  are  brave.  Buildings  are  rising  and  the 
commercial  side  of  things  is  being  attended  to — for  that  is  our 
bread  and  butter.  But  we  shall  not  survive  by  bread  and  butter 
alone!. 

We  must  also  have  sentiment  or  the  best  that  is  ours  will 
pass  away.  From  our  heritage  in  this  land  of  ours  we  have 
much  that  is  beautiful  to  make  life  charming — a  taste  for  music 
and  art  and  culture  and  manners. 

Can  we  afford  to  let  the  incomers  wipe  all  that  out? 

From  the  Southerners,  descendants  of  mighty  clans  of  Aryan 
stock  we  have  a  splendid  pride  of  spirit  which  knows  no  defeat 
yet  which  in  all  states,  whether  in  riches  or  poverty,  reveals 
the  courtesy  of  kings  to  all,  whether  small  or  great.  ■ 

Can  we  afford  to  let  the  newcomers  destroy  all  this? 

From  our  Pioneer  fathers  and  mothers  of  Puritan  descent, 
men  and  women  of  honor  and  of  stainless  names,  we  have  be- 
come heirs  to  examples  of  fortitude  in  time  of  privation.  Shall 
we  let  their  standards  perish,  and  permit  instead  the  notorious 
and  the  shameless  and  the  mercenary  to  order  our  affairs? 

What  we  need  is  to  call  upon  the  men  and  women  of  the 
outlying  districts  to  give  us  their  sympathy  and  help,  for  in  the 
country  the  splendid  old  Californian  spirit  burgeons  and  blos- 
soms in  all  its  glory.  That  is  the  power  that  will  save  our  city. 
We  are  all  one.  San  Francisco  is  the  heart  of  the  State  of  Cali- 
fornia and  when  the  heart  is  affected  the  whole  body  must  suffer 
in  sympathy.  California  is  San  Francisco  and  San  Francisco 
should  be  California.  We  shall  simply  have  to  see  to  it  that 
she  comes  under  the  power  of  the  homes  once  more.  And  the 
country  cannot  afford  to  sit  spineless  in  the  face  of  these  dangers, 
but  must  rouse  herself  to  run  in  occasionally  to  the  back-door  in 
her  sunbonnet  with  a  pat  of  butter  or  a  loaf  of  bread  in  her 
hand  or  a  smile  of  encouragement  on  her  lips  and  in  her  eyes 
to  tide  over  a  hard  time  spiritually  as  she  is  already  doing 
materially.  For  what  she  gives  she  will  receive  back  again  a 
thousandfold.     That  is  the  beauty  of  giving. 

I  met  a  charming  and  thoughtful  young  woman  in  the  cars 

16 


the  other  day  who  tried  to  help  the  stranger  of  a  conductor 
to  let  me  off  at  Capp  street  at  the  right  number.  We  talked 
together  as  two  women  sometimes  will  and  she  said  this :  "We 
all  know  that  in  unity  there  is  strength  and  without  unity  there 
is  disruption — I  am  beginning  to  fear  for  our  city — it  almost 
seems  as  if  the  way  things  are  going  now  that  it  will  soon  be 
beyond  redemption." 

But  she  forgot  about  the  country — the  country  is  a  place  of 
homes  and  the  homes  set  all  things  straight.  One  has  only  to 
go  out  a  few  miles  from  the  city-limits  to  be  at  home  in  old 
California  full  of  courtesy,  manners  and  good  will.  Why  when 
I  went  Healdsburg  they  did  not  give  me  a  key  for  my  room 
at  the  hotel.  They  said  I  could  latch  the  door  when  I  was 
inside.  But  I  informed  them  that  I  wanted  to  lock  it  when  I  was 
outside  as  I  was  going  to  leave  my  satchel  while  I  took  a  walk. 
I  saw  nudging  and  smiles  going  on  and  realized-  that  it  was 
ridiculous  to  be  so  suspicious  of  the  good  inhabitants  of  this 
little  town. 

"Excuse  me,  I  am  just  from  New  York  city,"  I  explained. 
The  next  day  I  left  my  satchel  in  a  buggy  and  it  went  to  the 
stable.  Of  course  I  was  anxious  as  I  was  miles  out  in  the 
country  away  from  the  town.  But  bless  you — it  was  the  other 
people  who  had  taken  on  themselves  the  care  of  that  bit  of 
luggage — a  family  I  did  not  know  at  all  drove  up  that  evening 
and  asked  for  the  lady^  who  forgot  her  satchel — and  there  it 
was.  Property  is  safe  where  the  home-spirit  prevails.  And  the 
home-spirit  prevails  in  the  country. 

And  when  I  went  out  into  the  country  beyond  the  limits  of 
Haywards,  only  a  short  distance  from  our  city,  I  found  every- 
one, man,  woman  and  child,  nodding  and  wishing  me,  "Good 
day,"  as  we  passed  along  the  roads,  and  even  asking  me  if 
I  would  have  a  lift,  when  they  rode  along  with  conveyance. 
I  know  that  will  seem  like  a  romantic  tale  of  some  ancient  time, 
but  I  insist  that  is  now  at  this  very  date.  If  you  do  not  believe 
it  just  take  a  run  over  to  that  very  pretty  little  town — growing 
now  very  fast  with  the  incoming  people  and  see  it  for  your- 
selves. You  will  find  them  altogether  friendly  and  neighborly, 
just  as  we  all  should  be  even  here  in  our  dear  city  if  only  we 
were  not  partially  deranged  by  the  outrageous  conditions  now 

17 


prevailing.     But  it  must  come  if  only  we  can  learn  how  to  get 
back  to  the  old  customs  and  ways. 

How  shall  we  go  to  work  to  unite  the  city  and  country, 
then? 

We  must  all  agree  first  of  all  that  we  do  want  to  unite.  As 
an  expression  of  this  desire  wear  a  little  emblem — a  flower 
upon  your  breast.  Nothing  so  cheered  and  comforted  me  upon 
my  return  to  the  city  of  my  love  as  the  sight  of  men  going 
about,  in  rough  working  clothes,  with  a  flamboyant  blossom 
over  their  hearts — indicative  of  the  courage  within.  I  knew 
them — they  were  the  old  San  Franciscans — nothing  could  daunt 
them. 

Why  should  we  not  choose  a  yellow  flower  to  wear,  as  sym- 
bolical of  the  poppy  that  is  native  to  our  soil,  and  belongs  to 
the  country  itself? 

Then  we  shall  know  each  other  when  we  meet. 

Slowly  and  cautiously  we  must  organize  in  small  groups, 
here  and  there,  for  the  express  purpose  of  creating  a  mighty 
sentiment  for  the  revival  of  the  old  San  Franciscan  spirit — for 
the  express  purpose  of  Californianizing  the  newcomers  and 
strangers  in  our  gates.  Not  only  men  and  women  but  also  the 
children  must  be  wakened  up  to  the  need  of  this  effort  for  the 
preservation  of  ourselves  and  our  city  from  the  hideous  mer- 
cenary working  now  going  on  in  our  midst. 

We  need  social  life  to  modify  commercial  life. 

We  must  get  back  the  good  old  Tivoli  with  its  operas  and 
fine  music — the  fine  old  progressive  Tivoli  that  gave  us  "Cav- 
alieria  Rusticana"  before  even  New  York  had  it.  We  must 
have  "Ballad  Concerts"  with  our  own  girls  singing  for  us 
instead  of  indulging  in  so  much  mechanical  music.  Give  the 
girls  home-audiences  and  then  they  won't  have  to  become 
wanderers  in  foreign  lands  to  have  their  beautiful  voices  appre- 
ciated. We  must  have  Frank  Gilder  Concerts  and  Camilla  Urso 
Concerts  like  in  the  old  days  when  all  the  country  came  to  the 
city  to  sing  for  us.  Even  now  we  should  be  preparing  for  a 
monster  concert  to  give  that  magnificent  "Ode  to  Irrigation" 
which  has  been  composed  in  Salt  Lake,  and  which  is  a  master- 
piece. I  heard  it  in  New  York  two  years  ago — and  it  is  being 
given  in  Sacramento — but  poor  San  Franciscan  people  are  left 

18 


out  in  the  cold  with  only  music-hall  selections  set  before  them 
to  satisfy  their  music-hungry  souls.* 

We  must  listen  to  our  boys  debating-  questions  of  the  day, 
we  must  see  our  children  dancing  and  having  a  little  joy  in 
life  before  they  too  are  mothers  and  fathers — even  the  parents 
should  be  dancing  the  lancers  and  quadrilles  as  they  do  on 
the  frontier  all  together,  where  life  has  some  joy  in  it  and 
formalism  is  done  away  with  in  the  midst  of  breaking  the  wilder- 
ness. We  must  be  alive,  we  must  be  young  always,  we  must 
make  life  joyous.     We  must  have  jeu  d'  esprit. 

We  must  help  our  artists  to  live — we  must  encourage  home 
production.  They  must  paint  pictures  of  the  home.  I  can  give 
them  a  subject  which  will  make  a  genre  equal  to  any  I  have 
seen  at  any  of  the  great  Expositions.  It  could  be  entitled,  "The 
Labors  of  Nelly."  The  scene  is  of  a  kitchen — the  clock  points 
to  midnight — a  little  shoe  and  sock  fallen  upon  the  floor  show 
that  the  babe  has  been  washed  and  put  to  bed.  The  school- 
books  reveal  that  another  larger  child  is  also  asleep.  A  man's 
hat  and  his  absence  from  the  scene  very  clearly  assures  that  he 
is  reposing.  m  But  the  fire  is  going  as  the  steam  from  the  kettle 
reveals  and  the  irons  are  on  and  the  ironing-board  stands  wait- 
ing with  sprinkled  clothes  upon  it — the  work  is  not  yet  done — 
that  is  evident. 

On  the  kitchen-table  are  lying  a  lot  of  beans — large  red  beans 
of  the  Spanish  variety — sorted  in  two  piles — those  that  have 
been  picked  and  those  that  have  not — and  there  we  find  the 
genius  of  the  household — sweet  Nelly,  the  mother  and  the  wife 
— and  she  is  fast  asleep,  her  head  upon  her  arm  like  an  innocent 
child  overcome  by  exhaustion.  That  is  the  inner  life  going  on 
in  our  city  to-day,  but  who  knows  or  appreciates  it?  That 
is  the  silver  lining  to  any  cloud  upon  our  political  or  social 
existence. 

We  can  get  along  without  almost  anybody  but  "Nelly" — she 
holds  the  family  together.  Therefore  she  )is  worthy  of  the 
artists'  attention. 

Then  also  we  must  encourage  our  sculptors  to  give  us  statues 


*This  composition  was  given  in  San  Francisco  by  the  Choir  from  Salt  Lake  City, 
September  5th,  but  not  even  the  Press  comprehended  the  greatness  of  the  work, 
and  the  city  was  too  dumb  to  appreciate  it. 

19 


of  home-life.  I  remember  a  saying  of  the  late  Senator 
White  that  is  worthy  of  being  immortalized  in  bronze.  He 
was  giving  an  oration  in  Chicago  and  telling  of  the  work  of 
the  Pioneers  in  the  up-building  of  California.  But  he  was  not 
content  to  tell  of  the  man's  part  alone.  He  stopped  to  add  these 
words,  "And  the  Pioneer  mother — what  was  her  task  in  all  this 
privation  and  breaking  of  the  wilderness?  The  only  church  we 
knew  was  around  our  mother's  knees." 

Let  us  have  Tilden  or  some  other  of  our  gifted  scupltors 
place  this  group  among  those  other  beautiful  and  spirited  works 
of  art  now  giving  us  joy  and  delight  amid  the  turmoil  of  Market 
street. 

And  also  we  must  buy  the  songs  our  poets  sing — or  else 
encourage  those  of  more  talent  to  enter  the  field.  We  need  them 
all — poets  and  musicians  and  singers  and  artists  and  sculptors 
— we  perish  without  them ! 

We  cannot  carry  bricks  all  day  or  make  money  all  day — and 
night  too !  There  is  something  else  in  life  besides  thinking  of 
money  or  carrying  bricks  all  the  time.  Our  motto  should  be, 
"Work,  Play  and  Rest." 

We  have  no  rich  and  no  poor  in  San  Francisco.  Just  to 
live  here  in  this  climate  makes  us  all  rich.  We  have  no  suf- 
ferings to  bear  from  excessive  heat  or  excessive  cold.  The  man 
who  makes  money  with  his  brains  and  the  man  who  gives  his 
service  for  money  both  are  working-men  in  this  land  of  Cali- 
fornia, only  one  gets  up  earlier  in  the  morning  and  stops  sooner. 
His  wife  can  set  as  good  a  table  for  him  as  the  other  man  gets 
— for  this  is  a  land  of  plenty. 

I  know  that  this  is  so  for  I  have  eaten  at  both  tables  in  the 
last  few  months.  The  quality  was  as  good  at  each  only  less  in 
variety  and  excess  of  bill  of  fare — at  the  one  table — but  in  honor 
to  the  house-wife  let  it  be  said,  the  preparation  of  the  food  was 
delicious. 

A  new  but  very  old  idea  has  crept  into  our  city  lately  that 
of  owning  homely  little  houses  on  a  bit  of  land  in  preference 
to  paying  rent  for  flats  and  this  makes  for  homes — and  homes 
make  for  good  government.  Is  not  this  what  we  desire  most 
of  all  in  this,  our  native  land? 

And  when  we  have  done  all  this,  when  we  have  instituted 

20 


all  these  methods  for  making  life  pleasanter  and  better  and  more 
joyous,  with  music  and  song  and  art  and  good-fellowship,  what 
do  we  ask  in  return? 

Just  one  thing,  and  it  is  told  in  two  words,  "Honest  Work." 
There  would  be  no  encouragement  for  us  all  to  unite  to  do  this 
great  thing  simply  to  take  a  viper  to  our  breast  to  warm  into 
life  which  by  so  doing  would  destroy  our  own.  We  are  not 
going  to  be  so  madly  optimistic  as  to  think  that  words  will 
take  the  place  of  deeds.  Not  one  of  us,  whether  well  supplied 
or  not  with  the  where-withal  to  purchase  what  we  desire — 
wishes  to  be  cheated.  We  want  our  dollar's  worth  when  we 
pay  a  dollar — we  want  our  dime's  worth  when  we  pay  a  dime. 

I  had  planned  to  build  another  house  on  my  lot  in  San 
Francisco.  I  saw  the  architect  and  asked  about  employing  men. 
He  told  me  they  would  have  to  have  six  dollars  a  day.  "Of 
course,"  he  said  frankly,  "they  will  want  to  be  sitting  down  and 
smoking  at  ten  o'clock  and  you  will  have  to  keep  after  them 
to  get  the  work  out  of  them.  But  then  that  is  what  every  one 
has  to  be  doing  in  San  Francisco,  these  days." 

This  observation  struck  me  peculiarly.  The  money  I  was 
to  have  paid  to  these  men  in  return  for  this  niggardly  labor 
of  theirs  had  been  earned  hardly  and  honestly  and  had  been 
saved  carefully.  There  had  been  no  smoking  at  ten  o'clock  in 
the  morning  nor  at  any  other  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  there 
had  been  no  drinking  and  no  card-playing  to  kill  time  along 
the  route  where  that  coin  came  from — else  there  would  have 
been  no  sum  stored  up  against  this  moment  for  building  or  any- 
thing else.  It  had  been  paid  for  in  heart's  blood,  physically, 
mentally  and  spiritually.  This  was  sacred  money — how  could  I 
give  it  to  such  niggards  as  these? 

My  soul  revolted. 

I  remembered  when  I  built  my  house  in  1890,  how  generous 
the  men  were  who  worked  upon  it,  giving  me  full  weight  in 
labor  and  sometimes  over-weight  for  every  dollar  I  paid  them, 
and  at  the  end  when  the  dear  little  home  was  completed  for 
myself  and  child,  how  we  had  parted  always  to  be  friends  and 
with  sweetest  memories.  Old  man  Moody  and  his  men  did  not 
get  rich  out  of  the  job  but  they  did  lay  up  some  heart-interest 
where  moth  doth  not  corrupt,  from  the  widow  and  the  orphan. 

I  was  aghast  at  the  new  order  of  things  in  this  our  city. 

21 


What  had  happened?  Were  we  at  the  mercy  of  "cut-throats" 
instead  of  men,  I  asked  myself.  After  this  I  hired  carpenters, 
plumbers  and  laborers  to  do  some  repairs  and  carefully  I  inter- 
viewed every  one  of  them  to  try  to  answer  this  question.  And 
this  is  what  I  discovered.  Every  man  who  was  here  before 
the  18th  of  April,  1906,  was  one  of  us,  as  of  yore,  the  same 
good  old-California  breed,  kindly  and  honest  and  well-mean- 
ing. Those  who  had  come  in  answer  to  the  call  for  labor,  the 
world  round,  and  had  arrived  since  that  epoch-making  day, 
were  different.  They  flippantly  and  contemptuously  call  the 
name  of  the  city  as  do  those  zvho  do  not  love  her  best — by  that 
sailor-term,  "Frisco." 

They  do  not  speak  her  name  with  reverence  and  with  tears 
in  the  eyes  as  do  we  who  love  her  best!  as  do  we  who  long 
to  see  her  restored  to  her  pristine  beauty  and  glory  once  more, 
as  she  was  in  the  day  of  her  zenith. 

Nevertheless  these  elements  are  here  to  stay.  We  need  their 
brawn,  the  work  of  their  hands  and  we  must  keep  them.  What 
then? 

We  must  recognize  the  new  blood  they  bring  into  our  midst, 
the  splendid  power  which  comes  from  their  hands  for  they  are 
of  the  breed  of  Bashan  as  were  our  own  Pioneer  fathers  in  their 
youth,  but  we  want  them  to  send  for  their  women-folks,  their 
wives,  sisters,  mothers,  daughters  to  make  homes  here  anxl  find 
a  refuge  there  as  in  the  Ark  with  the  Rainbow  over  it. 

Among  these  elements,  however,  are  some  old-world  pro- 
ductions self-devoured  with  envy  and  covetousness ;  men  .who 
have  been  evolved  from  conditions  which  made  them  anarchistic 
before  they  were  born.  The  mother  who  is  starving  for  food 
will  mark  her  child  pre-nately  with  hatred  for  those  who  have 
everything.  But  take  even  a  starving  man — hungering  for  other 
things  as  well  as  for  food — feed  him  up,  give  him  good  music, 
and  get  him  to  dancing  and  busy  looking  at  pictures,  enjoying 
things  a  little,  and  even  he  will  begin  to  relax  the  wolfish 
muscles  and  be  diverted  from  his.  insane  quest. 

Every  mother  knows  the  art  of  diverting  a  child's  mind  from 
some  fixed  purpose  to  do  itself  evil  or  to  do  others  evil.  That 
is  the  art  we  must  put  into  effect  with  all  the  ingenuity  and 
acumen  and  instinct  with  which  we  are  possessed.     Parents  are 

22 


always  grateful  for  favors  and  privileges  given  to  their  young- 
lings and  that  is  why  we  should  elect  to  encourage  family-men 
and  to  make  homes  possible  instead  of  impossible  in  our  city. 

I  have  walked  many  miles  on  foot  up  and  down  our  hills 
and  I  have  met  all  sorts  and  kinds — our  old  friends  as  well  as 
these  newcomers — the  strangers  in  our  gates.  Lovely  dames 
in  silken  attire  have  passed  me  by,  on  their  way  home  from  their 
clubs  and  societies  and  I  have  overheard  them  voicing  their 
discontent  in  words  like  these :  "It  was  bad  enough  in  the 
city  last  year,  but  look  at  what  it  is  now !  And  going  from 
bad  to  worse!" 

These  are  the  women  who  should  be  wearing  the  yellow 
flower  and  exhaling  the  kindly  essence  of  old  California  and 
working  for  the  social  redemption  of  our  beloved  San  Francisco. 
All  that  is  needed  is  the  word  passed  along  the  line.  I  know 
them — these  splendid,  brilliant  women  who  can  do  all  things — 
from  working  with  their  hands  as  well  as  with  their  hearts  and 
brains  for  any  cause  that  appeals  to  them.  I  have  worked 
with  them  and  I   know. 

Last  March  in  New  York  city,  it  seemed  my  time  had  come 
and  I  must  pass  out  from  this  wearisome  old  world.  With  the 
loyalty  of  a  native  Californian,  however,  I  resolved  if  it  must 
be,  that  I  would  die  in  my  own  land,  under  her  smiling  skies 
and  in  her  benign  atmosphere.  That  much  of  this  earth  I  would 
have  for  my  last  joy  before  I  went  forth  and  the  thought 
buoyed  me  up  for  the  journey  across  the  continent.  When 
I  came  out  from  the  snow-sheds  finally  and  found  myself  in 
the  beautiful  green  land  of  promise  I  wept  for  joy. 

"What   rapture  is  this  now  I   feel, 
Approaching,  the  land  of  my  leal? 
Oh,  hail  California,  all  lands,  all  lands  above 
I  come  to  thee,  joyous,  oh,  land  of  my  love." 

For  thirteen  years  (save  for  two  brief  visits  in  between)  I 
had  been  away,  and  I  believe  now  it  was  really  homesickness 
with  which  I  was 'perishing,  at  any  rate  in  one*  week's  time  in 
my  old  home  in  beloved  San  Francisco  I  began  to  be  as  well 
as  ever. 

I  couldn't  die.     I  mustn't  die,  there  was  too  much  to  live 

23 


for  was  the  new  alchemy  introduced  into  my  veins  with  every 
breath   I   drew. 

And  that  should  be  the  way  with  all  of  us,  new  and  old  to 
the  city.  We  must  be  freshly  baptised  in  the  old  Califocnian 
spirit  and  go  about  making  converts.  We  must  teach  the 
children  and  we  must  teach  the  teachers  to  go  about  planting 
this  kind  of  seed.  Nothing  can  help  us  better  than  a  little  song 
to  sing  all  together.  Let  some  one  adapt  an  air  we  already 
know  to  the  beautiful  four-liner  written  years  ago  by  one  of 
our  Californian  poets,  Mrs.  Hinman  Shuey.     It  runs  as  follows: 

Sown   is   the   golden   grain,   planted   the   vines ; 

Fall  swift,  O  loving  rain,  lift  prayers  O  pines  ; 
O  green  land,  O  gold  land,  fair  land  by  the  sea, 

The  trust  of  thy  children  reposes  in  thee. 

The  summing  up  then  of  the  whole  question  is  this ; 

Do  these  conditions  exist? 

Can  something  be  done  to  arrest  this  demoralization? 

Is  it  worth  while  to  do  something? 

Are  you  willing  to  help?     To  become  an  Ark-adian? 

With  these  answered  in  the  affirmative,  comes  the  next 
question. 

Will  you  wear  the  yellow  flower  of  Californian  good-fellow- 
ship as  an  earnest  of  your  belief  in  the  restoration  and  revival 
of  the  old  San  Francisco  spirit? 

Will  you  join  one  of  the  committees  to  help  bring  about  this 
revival  ? 

Will  you  work  secretly  and  not  publicly,  as  the  latter  would 
defeat  the  very  purpose  for  which  we  are  contending?  Every 
message  should  be  by  word  of  mouth,  not  by  public  print. 

The  yellow  flower  is  to  be  our  only  outward  manifestation. 


September  9th,  1907. 

Three  months  have  elapsed  .since  this  letter  was  begun,  it 
being  held  over  in  the  hope  that  the  strike  difficulty  in  our 
city  would  be  terminated  amicably  and  that  all  reference  to  it 
could   be    omitted.     That   hope    has    been,    alas,    in   vain.     The 

24 


distinguished  gentlemen  from  Washington,  D.  C,  have  come 
and  have  returned  to  their  places  in  the  East,  and  bearing  with 
them  no  good  tidings  of  our  condition.  The  sorrowful  events 
which  took  place  upon  September  2nd  have  further  caused  deep 
depression  in  our  beloved  San  Francisco  and  the  sister  cities  and 
towns  of  the  State  who  must  necessarily  suffer  with  her. 

All  these  things  show  the  need  for  the  people  of  the  homes 
to  arise  and  demand  that  these  terrible  hostilities  must  cease 
and  that  an  end  be  made  to  these  incentives  to  crime  for  the 
sake  of  the  homes,  the  women  and  the  children,  the  peace  and 
prosperity  of  the  city.  Else  we  shall  be  having  revolution,  chaos 
and  anarchy  as  the  result  of  all  this  wicked  stupidity. 

Before  it  'is  too  late  let  us  make  converts  of  Mr.  Calhoun  of 
the  United  R.  R.  and  Mr.  Cornelius  of  the  Carmen's  Union  by 
sending  them  each  a  yellow  flower  to  wear  upon  their  breasts 
in  earnest  of  San  Francisco  Redi-vivus. 

Let  us  see  if  sentiment  cannot  succeed  where  force  has 
failed. 

Earriestly  yours,  for  the  ultimate  welfare  of  our  beloved  city. 

Ella    Stirling    Cummins. 


September  19,  1907. 

On  Admission  Day,  the  9th  of  September,  as  an  appropriate 
exercise  for  the  evening,  I  was  requested  to  read  this  open  letter 
to  a  group  of  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  at  the  Haywards  Hotel, 
Haywards.  It  may  be  brought  to  mind  by  those  who  remember 
the  annals  of  the  day  of  San  Francisco  in  her  dire  calamity  that 
the  women  of  Haywards  were  the  first  to  recognize  the  fearful 
need  of  that  first  twenty-four  hours  and  by  working  all  night 
to  prepare  hampers  of  home-made  food,  they  were  the  first  to 
reach  the  city  in  the  morning. 

At  the  close  of 'the  reading  there  were  resolutions  passed  and 
I  was  given  a  mission  to  perform  in  our  dearly  beloved  city. 
There  was  something  appropriate  in  it  being  the  women  of  Hay- 
wards who  thus  sent  me  to  try  to  introduce  sentiment  into  a 
problem  where  force  had  so  signally  failed. 

25 


I  stopped  at  the  florist's  at  the  ferry-building  and  told  him  to 
keep  yellow  flowers  in  readiness,  for  everyone  who  wanted  the 
strike  to  end  was  to  wear  them.  Then  I  went  into  the  street 
cars  and  gave  them  to  several  men  of  the  old  time  who  gladly 
took  them  and  placed  them  over  their,  hearts. 

I  sought  the  city-hall  with  its  beautiful  figure  of  Justice  still 
intact  whatever  else  has  happened  there,  and  when  I  came  away, 
Mayor  Taylor  was  wearing  the  yellow  flower  of  good-fellowship 
willingly.  Next  I  saw  ex-Mayor  Phelan  who  has  always  been  a 
patron  of  the  arts  in  our  city  and  he  took  one  also  to  wear. 

It  was  a  wearisome  way  to  the  door  of  Mr.  Patrick  Calhoun, 
but  I  kept  up  my  courage  and  presented  the  message  of  entreaty 
for  the  sake  of  the  women  and  the  children  and  left  the  symbol 
of  the  poppy  with  its  meaning  to  be  delivered  on  his  return  to 
his  home.  Then  I  came  to  the  humbler  abode  of  Mr.  Richard 
Cornelius  and  gave  into  the  hand  of  a  young  girl  the  same  to 
be  given  to  him. 

Strange  to  say  by  an  almost  incomprehensible  coincidence — a 
great  thing  happened  the  following  day  in  San  Francisco.  The 
boycott  against  riding  in  the  cars  that  had  existed  for  nearly  five 
months  was  called  off  on  that  very  next  afternoon.  No  longer 
was  that  incentive  to  violence  to  be  continued  in  our  streets. 

But  was  it  the  yellow  flower  of  good-fellowship  and  its  influ- 
ence that  has  brought  about  this  gain  to  the  city,  to  the  women 
and  the  children?     Who  knows? 

At  least  the  President  of  the  Carmen's  Union  and'the  thousand 
men  behind  him  have  done  their  share.  Let  us  see  what  the 
President  of  the  United  Railroads  and  the  thousand  men  behind 
him  are  going  to  do.  Can  they  withstand  sentiment  ?  No,  wear 
the  flower  yourself  and  send  him  one  and  he  will  join  our  ranks 
too. 

And  then  one  fine  morning,  when  all  this  comes  to  pass  (as  it 
will),  we  all  want  to  work  together,  the  country  helping,  to  clear 
Market*  street  near  the  ferry-building,  so  that  our  dear  city  can 
put  her  best  foot  foremost.  How,  you  ask?  Why,  it  is  the 
easiest  thing  imaginable  if  the  wish  be  in  your  heart.  All  that 
is  necessary  is  for  the  young  people  all  over  the  State  to  unite 
and  get  up  Ark-adian  ballad-concerts,  with  dancing  afterwards, 
for  their  fathers  and  mothers — to  entreat  them  to  join  in  with  the 

26 


Lancers  and  Virginia  Reel  and  give  them  the  old-fashioned 
fiddler  to  call,  as  of  yore,  the  figures,  to  inspire  confidence.  Who 
would  not  dance  for  Market  street?  And  then  see  that  the  pro- 
ceeds go  for  the  purpose  for  which  they  are  intended. 

And  instead  of  the  fierce  newsboys  assailing  our  ears  as  we 
enter  the  city's  gates,  with  horrid  cries  of  the  latest  deeds  of  vio- 
lence from  all  over  the  world  (as  if  they  had  occurred  that  very 
hour  in  our  own  town,  which  they  have  not) — we  want  to  go 
back  to  the  old  days  and  hear  the  much  pleasanter  voices  of  the 
hackmen  and  runners  for  the  hotels,  who  used  to  call  merrily, 
"What  Cheer?"  till  we  all  smiled  as  we  came  in. 

Is  all  this  a  dream?  No,  it  is  an  aspiration — and  an  aspira- 
tion is  a  prophecy  of  things  as  yet  unfulfilled. 

We  want  it  made  known  to  all  the  world  that  San  Francisco 
is  in  fact  a  place  of  security  and  protection  for  the  homes,  the 
women  and  the  children. 

E.   S.  C. 

September  19th,  1907. 


27 


14  DAY  USE 

*  RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recalL 


29jarT65<\ 

uHfA. 

. 

^tV**^ 

•  2005 

FEB  1  '  2006 

WsSStiiS          ™S3gJgE»i. 

Photomount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros. 

Makers 

Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

PAT.  JAM  21,  1908 


U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


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